Share Each Day With Me
by Wild Concerto
Summary: Covering the six months between Il Muto and the Masquerade Ball, Christine and Raoul develop their love for each other until they become engaged. Fluffy R/C fluff all the way. E/C fanatics may want to keep their hand at the level of their eyes.
1. Say The Word

**Hello everyone! So yes, I'm coming in with a phanfic that's going to be totally R/C. As said in the summary, E/C fanatics, keep your hand at the level of your eyes, because this might just be major (indirect or direct, I don't know yet) E/C bashing. Okay, maybe not, but I'll see the too-often idealized E/C pairing with a very cool and realistic eye.**

**I always thought it was kind of lame that the musical and the 2004 movie had so little Raoul/Christine moments, but I really feel they did that on purpose. A lot of people will say that Raoul and Christine didn't develop their relationship very much, and that they got engaged too quickly, and so on and so forth…. They seem to forget that between the **_**Il Muto **_**representation and the Masquerade ball, there's a gasp of six months. In six months, a lot of things can happen. **

**So we all know Erik was busy working on **_**Don Juan Triumphant**_**, but what about Christine and Raoul? The answer is: they were having major fluffiness together. So there won't be much of a plot here, just big enormous R/C fluff for R/C lovers. I just hope it won't get too cheesy. Well, I just say to myself you can't get cheesier than **_**Love Never Dies**_**, so… XD This will be a short phic, with not much more than ten chapters… unless I get a major R/C fluff overdose. XD This will be mainly based on the 2004 movie, since Emmy Rossum and Patrick Wilson portrayed Christine and Raoul exactly how I imagine them, but they're will be glimpses of the musical and of the original Leroux novel, the latter developing the R/C relationship WAY more. Enjoy, and please review! Those who know me know that I try as much as I can to answer them all! If you ever have ideas, don't feel shy either! **

**Disclaimer (goes for all the other chapters): I do not own anything coming from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. Anything coming from Gaston Leroux's **_**Fantôme de l'Opéra **_**novel belongs to the public domain.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Say The Word**

While the confidante and the fops were singing, with Meg, dressed up as a rather sassy chambermaid overhearing their conversation, Christine Daaé just couldn't wait for the bed's curtains to open, revealing a Countess being caressed quite awkwardly on the stomach by a blushing Serafino. While they were waiting, the young girl tried not to peer too much towards La Carlotta. When she did, the prima donna couldn't help gazing at her with triumph and contempt. It wasn't that Christine was furious of being cast into a role as insignificant as the pageboy's, made even more insignificant by its silence. No. Christine Daaé feared the power of the Phantom of the Opera.

They had all heard him set his curse on the Opera house, announcing that a disaster beyond their imagination would occur… But no one had decided to take it seriously, for they had all decided to defy the infamous Opera Ghost. All of them, except Mme Giry and Meg, who, while they were helping Christine to get ready for _Il Muto_, would often glance at each other, worried and upset, and the ballet mistress would sometimes nod her head in some sort of painful resignation. And Raoul…

Since that night on _Hannibal_, full of wonders worthy of some dark fairy tale, but also full of horror and angst, Christine simply didn't have the courage to tell him that he mustn't attempt to see her again. She wasn't quite sure of what the Phantom was capable of, at least, not yet… but she trembled just imagining what could happen. However, Raoul had insisted so much, as she gave some random reasons, she just couldn't refuse and she just couldn't find any excuses anymore… He had taken her to the Champs-Élysées or at the Tuileries on her free afternoons and even to a restaurant on an evening. And she had rather enjoyed her time, to say the truth. Raoul often made her laugh, and they would remember their childhood… More and more, he represented something stable, faithful to her, who reminded her of happier times. But though Christine was a rather naïve girl, she wasn't stupid. Raoul, like herself, was easy to read, and it was quite evident for her that he wanted to keep her out of the Opera Populaire as much as possible. Well, it wasn't like she was against the idea of being out of the Opera house from time to time. Just the thought of seeing the so-called Angel of Music again would remind her too much of his distortion, and more especially, of the rage he had got into when she had so foolishly unmasked him, for the brainless thrill brought to her by the lecture of too many stupid gothic novels. At that moment, Christine had truly thought her last minutes had come.

Did Raoul know something?

That was impossible. She had told him absolutely nothing about the Phantom. She didn't really want to think of all this, anyway.

The bed's curtains finally opened, revealing the Countess and Serafino. Christine, swiftly, laid her hand on La Carlotta's corsage, to gasp as she saw herself discovered, and not needing much concentration to blush.

"Serafino, your disguise is perfect!" declared La Carlotta, pointing with her fan the skirt and the maid bonnet Christine was wearing to hide her pageboy costume. Soon after, the sound of a knock, produced by the orchestra's percussionist, made itself heard.

"Who could it be?" sang La Carlotta.

A Don Attilo, played by Ubaldo Piangi, made his entrance, just after Christine got up and, playing her role as maid, started dusting around, wobbling her back as much as she could, this being even more emphasized by the huge skirt she was wearing. It wasn't the first time she was doing this, thanks to all the repetitions… But to do this, in front of all those people… Christine started to understand why the Phantom wanted her to sing the Countess and La Carlotta to play the pageboy.

"Gentle wife, admit your loving husband!" sang Piangi. "My love, I am called to England for affairs of state, and must leave you with your new maid!" As he sang this last lyric, he approached Serafino while he wasn't looking, his hands heading dangerously towards his (or her) back... but thankfully, the "maid" got up quickly, with an insulted glare for Don Attilo. But it seemingly didn't discourage the Count too much, for he added, apart:

"Though I'd happily take the maid with me!" This last sentence provoked laughter all around the theater.

"The old fool is leaving!" the Countess also declared apart, hiding her mouth with her fan, with not very convincing acting.

Don Attilo headed towards the door, declaring, just before departing:

"I suspect my young bride is untrue to me! I shall not leave, but shall hide over there to observe her!"

But immediately, the Countess, as she felt the lack of trust (rather well-founded, to tell the truth) of her husband, immediately rose up to him, singing in high-pitched notes an "Addio" to him. Christine glanced quickly towards Meg, who couldn't help wincing a bit, and smiled nervously, feeling her anxiety lower a bit, though not completely. More than ever, the weaknesses which had developed themselves in La Carlotta's voice throughout the years showed themselves, as she almost screamed more than she sang.

But finally, the torturing duet finally ended, and Don Attilo left… to hide just behind the door.

"Serafino, away with this pretense!" La Carlotta declared, while Christine yanked away her bonnet and her skirts, showing her pageboy costume while the confidante, the fops and the chambermaid would gasp. "You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence!"

Goodness, that was the worst part. At least, she didn't really have to kiss her. But still.

La Carlotta, immediately after, started to sing the _Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh _recitative, the weaknesses in her voice becoming more and more evident, answered after by everyone who was on scene, while Christine walked around the Countess, playing a Serafino enjoying his momentary triumph… Until a voice seemingly coming from the underworld because of its sepulchral, grave and menacing tone made itself heard. Christine's face became even paler than the color of her makeup itself.

"DIDN'T I INSTRUCT BOX 5 WAS TO BE KEPT EMPTY?"

"He's here, the Phantom of the Opera," whispered Meg, glancing towards the ceiling.

A more than terrified Christine approached her friend, seeking some sort of protection thanks to her proximity, as she gasped, incapable of keeping quiet:

"It's him, I know it's him!"

"Your part, little toad, is silent!" snapped Carlotta, before immediately remembering she was on scene, and that everyone had seen her not very graceful attitude towards Christine, and, as to make up for it, giggled with a wide smile, a bit too wide to be true.

"A toad, madame? Perhaps it is you who is the toad." the Phantom's voice echoed again.

La Carlotta stared for a moment towards the ceiling, her face mixed with humiliation, anger and fear. But she soon found again her prideful and usual demeanor, and hurried towards the wings, where her maid was waiting for her with her throat mist. She took a bit of it, sang a few vocalizes, and then quickly came back on scene.

"It's good, it's good," she announced in a flowery tone. She turned back towards Christine. "Serafino, away with this pretense!" she repeated. "You cannot speak, but kiss me in my – CROAK!"

Instead of the awaiting word which was here "husband", a ghastly sound, similar to… to the croak of a toad, came out of La Carlotta's mouth. Christine gasped, horrified, as she started to see what was the disaster beyond their imagination. And her horror became even worse, as she heard the Phantom's laugh roaring in the theater.

"SHE'S SINGING TO BRING DOWN THE CHANDELIER!"

As if they were one soul, absolutely everyone in the theater looked nervously towards the chandelier… but it didn't move one bit.

La Carlotta coughed a bit, then, though she seemed quite uncertain, started to sing again.

"Poor fool, he makes me laugh, ha ha ha ha – CROAK! CROAK! CROAK!"

The prima donna's croak was getting quite uncontrollable. Christine looked at Meg, trembling like a leaf, while the ballerina tried to look reassuring, without success. La Carlotta, humiliated, was starting to throw a tantrum, crying for the Madonna and other saints she probably never prayed in more pleasant times, while her maids were desperately signaling her to come back, but thankfully, the curtains closed. M. André, wiping his face with his handkerchief, arrived on scene for an announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the performance will continue in ten minutes time," he started, with a not very well-assured voice, "and the role of the Countess will be sung by Christine Daaé…"

Immediately, André looked behind the curtain, and grabbed a very numb Christine, still not totally conscious of what was going on because of all the shock she had faced only a few seconds ago.

"In the meantime, ladies and gentlemen," continued André, "we will give you the ballet from… um… um… (He looked through the program) Act Three, from tonight's opera. Maestro, the ballet…"

"What?" gasped M. Reyer.

"THE BALLET, NOW!" yelled André, his patience totally worn off, as he pushed Christine back behind the curtains. The new and quite unfortunate star of the show rushed towards Mme Giry, who was helping Meg get into her costume for the ballet quite earlier than expected, and, as soon as she was finished, rushed with Christine towards the dressing room, to get her ready.

Immediately, the pageboy costume was taken off, and one of Carlotta's maids soon arrived for the swap. But, just as Mme Giry was going to put her corsage on, something, put well in evidence on her dressing table, caught her eye… She rushed towards it, febrile, and took it in her hands, to let go a little cry… It was a single rose, with a black ribbon tied around it. And one of its thorns had just stung Christine.

But there was no time to worry about it, though the effort for not worrying seemed inhuman for Christine, as, in some sort of trance, she was staring at the mirror, like if she was afraid that… that something was just going to… to pop out of it.

Soon, she was all dressed, and all that was left to do was her hair... but suddenly, cries coming from the wings and even the whole theater arrived to Mme Giry and Christine's ears.

Quickly, Mme Giry headed towards the door, followed closely by Christine, and stopped a ballerina who was rushing uncontrollably in the corridor.

"What is going on?" snapped the ballet mistress.

"Oh, Madame, it's terrible," sobbed the dancer. "The Opera Ghost cursed us! He has hung Buquet!"

This was too much for Christine to bear. Before Mme Giry had the time to react, the singer grabbed a cape, and rushed outside, putting it on her shoulders. She had no idea where she was going. She just wanted to run away. Run away from _him_.

But, in her crazy, blind cavalcade, she suddenly collided with someone who immediately appeared as some sort of guardian angel sent by God himself. Raoul.

"Christine, come with me!"

Those words, at that moment, were simply the most beautiful words Christine had ever heard. But, still aware of the present situation, nervously, she grasped his hand, yelling:

"Raoul! We're not safe here!"

Without further ado, she guided him towards the stairs, which leaded on the Opera Populaire's rooftop.

* * *

From his box, the vicomte Raoul de Chagny had seen everything. Of course, he knew that Christine was going to play the pageboy tonight. He had felt authentically sorry for her, especially after her triumph in _Hannibal_. She had been simply divine…

For a moment, he had thought of influencing the managers to give Christine the Countess' role. As a patron, and with a few promises, he could have perfectly done that… But for this case, he knew that it was no use. The managers were determined to defy the Opera Ghost's orders. Raoul knew it was a rather unwise thing to do. He was persuaded that this so-called Opera Ghost was also responsible of Christine's disappearance, on the night of _Hannibal_, and that he was the voice he had heard in her dressing-room. But he had to admit that the reaction the master-mind would have seeing that _Il Muto _hadn't been prepared according to his commands would inform him quite well of what he was capable of… though it wasn't very smart of provoking him, so to say.

And Raoul had to admit that the level of madness of this master-mind had shown itself quite well, on that night.

As soon as Buquet's corpse had fallen from the scaffoldings, the first image that had come upon the vicomte's mind was Christine's. Where was she?

Immediately, he got out of his box, rushing towards the singers' dressing-rooms, to stumble across an almost hysterical Christine, who immediately took him towards stairs, yelling they weren't safe, to arrive on the Opera Populaire's rooftop. The sweet summer breeze was blowing gently, warm and soft; but it didn't stop Christine from shivering.

"Christine, why have you brought me here?" Raoul finally inquired. He had proposed, a few minutes earlier, to follow him. But it didn't seem safe enough for her. Why on the rooftop?

"Raoul, don't take me back there!" Christine cried. "He'll kill me, his eyes will find me there…"

Well, Raoul had to admit she had a rather good reason to be afraid. But she didn't need to know that. She had to calm down, before.

"Be still, Christine, please!"

"And he has to kill a thousand men…" the young girl continued, still hysteric.

"Christine, for God's sake, forget this waking nightmare!" Raoul shouted, starting to get worried about her mental state.

"The Phantom of the Opera will kill…" she carried on, like if she was unaware of Raoul's presence.

"The Phantom is a fable, believe me!" cried the vicomte, trying to convince Christine once and for all the Opera Ghost was a man of flesh and bone, who could be stopped.

"And kill again!"

"Christine, there is no Phantom of the Opera!"

_My God, who is this man, who haunts to kill? This mask of death… _Christine and Raoul both thought the same thing. They looked at each other, and immediately, all fear started seemingly to fade away. Slowly, Christine approached the young man, tears in her eyes.

"I can't escape from him…"

"Who is this voice you hear?" asked Raoul, as softly as he could, trying to make her understand that he wanted to help, and also, to pierce once and for all the mystery of the voice he had heard in Christine's dressing-room.

"I never will escape, Raoul, I never will, don't you get this?" the young girl said again, getting hysterical again.

"Christine, listen to me… There is no Phantom of the Opera," the vicomte replied, posing his hands softly on the singer's shoulders.

"Raoul, I've been there!" Christine cried, hugging Raoul tightly. "To his world of unending night, to his world where the daylight dissolves into darkness… Raoul, I've seen him! Can I ever forget the sight? Can I ever escape from a face so distorted, so deformed, it was hardly a face, in that darkness?"

Raoul closed his eyes, patting the young girl gently on the back. She had seen many things. Probably a bit too much. All right, way too much. She had seen how nervous she was, in the last weeks, how she would find any excuse imaginable not to be with him… Was it because she was afraid of being in his company? Because she was afraid of someone seeing them together? Because she wanted to protect him? Now, Raoul was certain that it was a combination of all of those reasons.

He had to save her, save her from the grasp of her Angel, who revealed himself to be quite a demon.

But soon, Christine got out of his embrace, and looked towards the stars, a dreamy expression on her face… no, not just dreamy… fascinated. Like if she had been hypnotized.

"But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound. And that night, there was music in my mind… and through music, my song began to soar…"

A heavy silence installed itself. Raoul was just about to speak, when Christine finally added:

"And I heard as I never heard before…"

"Christine, what you heard was a dream and nothing more…" Raoul said, trying to wake up the Swedish girl from the strange state of hypnosis where she was plunged. It was a dream. The vicomte did truly believe that the Phantom was Christine's Angel, but he was a man, trying to fascinate her by his music, to abduct her. It was a dream he was creating around her, to tear her up from the real world. And Christine had to come back on Earth.

"Oh, Raoul…" Christine answered, with a sad smile. "But in his eyes… there was all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes… which both frighten and adore… He's alone, Raoul, so alone… How can I blame him?"

"Christine…" Poor Christine. She was so sensitive. The vicomte could sense all the pity she had for the poor creature that was, in appearance, haunting the Opera Populaire. _But she mustn't let pity overwhelm her, and control her life. _

Suddenly, a whisper, almost inaudible, made itself heard. "Christine…" it seemed to whisper.

"What was that?" Christine shouted, looking around her, like a doe hearing a hunter not too far away from her. Without further ado, Raoul, deliberately ignoring whoever whispered, Phantom or not, headed towards the girl, hugging her tightly.

He would say it to her. He would have liked to wait a bit, find the perfect time and place to say it to her, but the circumstances obliged him to do it earlier than planned.

During all those years where they had been separated, since Gustave Daaé's death, and since Christine had left, Raoul hadn't stop to think of her. He would have liked to stay in touch with her, but his father had refused to let him do such a thing. He had tolerated long enough his friendship with the daughter of a poor violinist, but to continue by writing silly letters… That was out of question! Little did the late comte de Chagny know about the secret child sweetheart relationship between his son and the little Daaé girl…

When he had visited the Opera Populaire for the first time, during a rehearsal for _Hannibal_, he hadn't seen her. There were just so many people, and he was still unaware of the fact she was there. But on the night of the gala, when they had announced that the star of the show would be Christine Daaé, in replacement of Carlotta Giudicelli, who had left, Raoul had the surprise of his life. She had changed so much. If he wasn't told that it was Christine, he would have never guessed it was her. The clumsy and rather skinny little girl had given place to a beautiful swan, who was now standing in the spotlight, singing like an angel, and made even more similar to this ethereal creature by her white dress and the crystals in her hair. But her character hadn't changed. She was still as sweet and innocent as before.

And, two weeks after their first meeting after all those years, Raoul de Chagny knew he was in love with Christine Daaé. It was crazy. It had all come so fast. But he was young and innocent, and his heart was pure, stolen by someone just as pure as himself.

"Please… there is no need to talk about darkness…" started Raoul, hugging her even more tightly than the first time. "Forget your fears. I'm here, nothing will harm you. I'll be your freedom… I'll guard you and guide you…"

The vicomte's words seemed to truly work, for Christine turned her head towards him, to lean it on his chest after, closing her eyes.

"Say you love me, Raoul… Talk to me about summer and light… Just say you want me with you… Just promise me all you're saying to me is true… Please, that's all I ask of you."

Christine couldn't believe what was happening to her. Of course, she had always trusted Raoul… But to ask him to protect her from the Phantom… she knew it was a great demand. Often, during the last two weeks, she had hesitated to ask the vicomte for assistance… But the more he spoke, the more she became sure that he would.

"Your fears are behind you, Christine…"

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night… and… I want you to be with me. To hide me…"

Being in the spotlight was exhilarating, indeed. But, since the day the Angel of Music had started to tutor her, her voice had changed so much. She was glad of it, and so was her teacher, judging by what he said and the tone of his voice, for she had never seen his face before that dreadful night. But, on the night of _Hannibal_, the spotlight, the scene, the public listening to Christine Daaé, and Christine Daaé only, some sort of adrenaline had taken possession of her. She had sung better than she had ever sung before. So much better, that for a moment, Christine had actually wondered if it was really her who was singing. And it frightened her. It was silly, when she thought about it. But it still frightened her. And often, glimpses of a simple life, where she could see pictures of green fields, wild flowers and sunshine would often come to her. So refreshing, compared to the baroque architecture and the darkness surrounding her, appropriate for some gothic novel where she simply didn't feel at ease. No. She had absolutely no doing in such things, she, Christine Daaé, Little Lotte, similar to a little field flower.

"Then say you share with me one love, one lifetime… Let me lead you from your solitude…" Raoul, slowly, dragged her at a lighted zone on the rooftop, getting away from the darkness. He just hoped his trembling wasn't too visible. Goodness, he felt embarrassed just thinking that he was reacting this way. Twenty-one. And still reacting this way, like an eight-year-old boy who admits some crush to his little playmate…

What was actually causing his nervousness was how quickly he had admitted his true feelings to Christine. Now, he feared her reaction. He was afraid she would accept too quickly. Well, it wasn't a proposal… _Not yet,_ thought Raoul, before mentally slapping himself. But considering how desperate Christine was, he was afraid she would accept his offer of protection as some sort of ticket to get herself out of all this madness. As a final attempt to somehow justify himself, he whispered:

"Anywhere you go, let me go too… Christine, that's all I ask of you."

But what he saw on Christine's features had as a result to wipe away his own fears. She smiled at him, in a smile so tender he knew his love wasn't unrequited.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime… say these words, and I will follow you," she simply answered. "Say you'll love me…"

"You know I do."

As if he wanted to convince her definitely, Raoul slowly leaned towards Christine, but, still afraid of going too fast, hesitated. But the singer's smile only widened, and he waited no more. Tenderly, they kissed. Christine wrapped her arms around Raoul's neck, and felt her feet lifting from the ground, while Raoul was making them twirl around as they embraced. They giggled, still not believing their happiness.

When finally, Raoul put her back on the ground, they hugged again, still enjoying the sweet proximity they had with each other. For a moment, the world could have vanished, they wouldn't have realized it.

It was only after a while that finally, Christine remembered that she was to start in an opera, and exclaimed:

"Oh dear, I must go! They'll wonder where I am!"

She headed quickly towards the door, but suddenly, remembering the threat which was awaiting her inside the cursed Opera house, she turned back to Raoul:

"Come with me…"

In the blink of an eye, Raoul was once again beside her, holding her hand gently, but firmly, ready to confront any demon who would come and take away Christine from him.

"Order your fine horses; be with them at the door! Tonight, I have no excuse for not having supper with you!" Christine claimed, laughing at the same time.

As they rushed down the stairs, the melody and the lyrics of an old love ballad Gustave Daaé used to sing, from time to time, when they were children, came back to them… And softly, like if they were all alone in the world, they started to sing:

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime… Say a word and I will follow you… Share each day with me, each night, each morning…"

Yes, Raoul de Chagny and Christine Daaé truly felt like if they were in heaven.

They had no idea that a pitiful creature of darkness was hidden in the shadows of Apollo and his lyre. Apollo, who loved Daphne, the nymph who preferred being transformed into a tree instead of giving herself to him… Yes, now, not a god, not an Emperor, not an angel, perhaps a fallen angel, but truly, a pitiful creature of darkness was cursing them at that very moment…

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**I just hope it wasn't too cheesy… I tried to adapt as much as possible "All I Ask of You" as a conversation, and I hope I didn't fail at it… **

**So review! That's really what keeps me going! **

**So first question of the day: Why do you think Raoul and Christine should end up together? (Yup, original question. XD)**


	2. No More Talk of Darkness

**A/N: I remember, when I entered the phandom, I was a mild R/C shipper… But now, I came to a point where I actually despise the Erik/Christine pairing. I mean, they are just so badly suited to each other, and I can't believe there are so many E/C shippers out there. Yes, I'm conscious that they shared a very strong bond in music, that Erik was a very important figure in Christine's childhood and teenage, and yes, Christine was fascinated by him and did feel lust for him, but it's pretty obvious that she didn't love him. I'm talking of the 2004 movie. Making an R/C fanvideo just proved it to me. **

**Christine is really a kind-hearted, sweet, weak-willed, sad little lost puppy kind of person, and though she's beautiful and talented, she doesn't have much of a personality… She annoys me sometimes. And Erik… well, he's Erik, aka The Living Explosion. I absolutely adore him, but he needs someone able to stand up to him. Raoul doesn't disserve AT ALL the hate he receives. To me, he's really the typical nice guy, sweet, kind, adorable, brave, kind of impulsive, but it just makes him even cuter… Seriously, I think people hate him simply because he's an obstacle, and a rather good one, to their idealized dark-romance story who will probably not last for very long in real life… Kind of like a certain young lady called Cosette Fauchelevent. **

* * *

**Chapter 2: No More Talk Of Darkness**

Christine, accompanied by Raoul, had quickly rushed back to her dressing-room, where Mme Giry was waiting for her. The singer was at first afraid the ballet mistress would make some stern remark about her absence, since it was expected that she had to get ready for the representation. The public had been quite horrified by Buquet's murder, and wouldn't accept any delay or other mishap.

But thankfully, the circumstances, being here Buquet's murder by the Phantom, also known as the Angel of Music, element that Antoinette Giry was aware of a bit too well, and more especially, the way Raoul and Christine were looking at each other, took away every bit of sourness she had. Even, she couldn't retain a smile by seeing them together… It took away from her, for a moment, all fear she had of the Phantom's reaction, just seeing them smiling a bit shyly, caught in some sort of teenage embarrassment, but so full of hope… Yes, the Phantom's reaction wouldn't be pretty indeed, to talk delicately. But now, Christine seemingly had a chance to get out of the Opera Ghost's clutches. The vicomte represented not only a wonderful future husband, but also, a helping hand Mme Giry could never give to Christine. She was the Phantom's slave, and friend at the same time. Friend, for as much as you could be friends with him…

Without asking any questions, the ballet mistress quickly wrapped Christine's long, heavy and curly hair in a cloth, and placed the 18th century-styled wig on her head. She quickly added a bit of makeup, just enough so her features and expression would be visible, and, with a smile, she said softly: "All done. Go quick. They're all waiting for you."

With a grin, Christine thanked Mme Giry, and once again, took Raoul's hand, and got out of the dressing-room, towards the wings.

Everything was getting placed for the first act by the stagehands. Nervously, Christine looked around, afraid of seeing Buquet's corpse. But thankfully, it was nowhere to be seen. She sighed of relief, squeezing Raoul's hand a little more tightly.

"If you want…" Raoul proposed, "I could stay in the wings. I don't mind, really… And I'll see you better."

Christine smiled shyly. "I would appreciate that, thank you."

Without further ado, the new prima donna, her head high, thanks to the assurance Raoul's presence gave her, walked on the scene and sat on the bed, soon to be joined by a Carlotta dressed up as a pageboy, who glared at her like some Fury. But after all she had been through, Christine couldn't care less. As she closed the bed's curtains, the orchestra started to play again.

_Sing, prima donna, once more. _

* * *

The whole opera went well without any hitches. Christine sang and played the Countess with charm and appeal, as it was required for such a role, though with a certain endearing ingenuousness. When finally, it ended, she finally saw the end of the tunnel. In less than half an hour, she would be out of the Opera house, with Raoul…

The time of the final bow came. When Christine came back on scene, the applause became only louder, and many roses were even thrown on scene. She blushed candidly, bowed gracefully, and even dared to look towards Raoul. He was also clapping, a wide smile on his face. _He's proud of his Little Lotte_, thought Christine with delight.

But, even many years after that evening, Christine wondered if _he _was there at that very moment, observing her every move, even reading in her mind… Like if her glancing at Raoul with a smile was a mortal sin, worthy of being punished by sudden death, _he_ had decided to take God's place for a while… A cry shattered Christine's tender ecstasy, and she looked up, like everyone… to see that a set was falling straight on her.

Everyone ran away, but Christine, like if she was hypnotized by Death's eyeless glare, obliging her to face her horrible fate, didn't move. At an incredible speed, a thousand thoughts invaded her mind all at the same time.

The Phantom wasn't just a man.

He was more than that.

He really was.

He wasn't just Angel.

He had taken the place of God, plunging His Creation into chaos, to satisfy his own purposes.

He had control on her life, on her soul…

Of all his schemes, she was the center of it.

Everything was converging to her.

Whoever betrayed him was doomed to die forever in Hell.

She was the master-piece.

She couldn't get out.

The whole universe would shatter.

Just like that set.

She hardly realized that suddenly, someone was dragging her away from scene, dragging her away from the eternal fire and darkness. Just in time, for if she stayed only a second longer, Christine Daaé would have been nothing more than a memory.

Even the loud crash of the set falling on the ground and shattering into pieces didn't seem to bring her back.

Finally, a voice was calling her. "Christine! Christine! Answer me, please!"

She came back to life, slowly lifted away from the eternal night where she was violently dragged. At last, she turned around, to see Raoul. He had saved her life. But not just by pulling her out of the scene. No. It was so much more than that.

But the distress she had faced was too much, too fresh in Christine's memory for her to describe it in words to Raoul. Instead, she simply hugged him frantically, whispering at his ear:

"Please… I'll just go and change and… let's leave. As soon as we can."

Christine felt Raoul's head nodding against her, as he stroked her hair gently. Like if she was a little china doll, this being more emphasized by her 18th century-style costume, he guided her gently by the hand, towards her dressing-room, where Madame Giry was waiting for her, and got out, but not before kissing Christine on the forehead, as if his kiss was going to be some sort of protection while he wasn't there.

It took no time for Mme Giry to undress Christine. She even had the thoughtfulness of preparing an evening dress for her, like if she already knew that the singer was going out with Raoul that night; an attention Christine quite appreciated.

But from time to time, as she got prepared, she would glance apprehensively towards the mirror. It was the very same mirror, the very same two-sided mirror which seemed today like some secret portal to Hell. Christine was afraid that _he _was there. Soon, Mme Giry saw her fears, and gently, she took her hand and patted it.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I know _he_ isn't there."

_Poor thing_, the ballet mistress thought. _He must be in the deepest place he can reach, down in his undergrounds. _For a moment, Mme Giry couldn't help comparing him to a wounded wild beast… But she swept away her gloomy thoughts. Christine had had enough emotions for one night, and truly disserved a bit of comfort.

"There you go," Mme Giry said, gently arranging Christine's hair in an elaborate bun, and then contemplating the final result. "You look beautiful."

She smiled gently, in those maternal smiles only mothers have the secret of producing so naturally. Without asking for it, Christine hugged her adoptive mother in her arms. Mme Giry felt her heart melt and burn. She regretted so much, now, that she hadn't protected Christine better. Well, she couldn't have done much, anyway. You didn't say no to Erik. She knew it, from the day she had freed him from the gypsy fair, that no one would put any obstacles to his attempt to raise in what he would qualify of Heaven. Now, after all this madness, she just hoped things would change, now that the vicomte was there… But she wasn't too certain of that. The Phantom wouldn't abandon so easily.

"Go now. You are young. Night and day are yours." Mme Giry said simply, as a manner of saying good bye.

Christine smiled, and headed towards the door, a cloak on her shoulders and a hood lifted on her head. She got out of the dressing-room, to see that Raoul was there, waiting for her.

"Are you ready?" he simply asked.

"Yes." It was a rather laconic answer, but for Christine and Raoul, it somehow meant the world.

They were young, and rather naïve, for they had so little experience of life, and its obstacles and pains. They had shared, when they were younger, this imaginary world full of fairies and korrigans, where they would always be the victorious heroes, winning every battle together. Life and its hazards, or perhaps God and His divine providence, or, even, maybe, Daddy Daaé himself, who unfortunately didn't send the real Angel of Music, but was still present, had brought them back together. Christine knew that Raoul would protect her at any cost. Raoul knew that he would be willing to do anything to protect Christine.

"Yes" just concluded this eternal pact between them. For good, they turned their back to darkness, to walk towards light, ready to fight for it if they were retained from it. But not individually. Together.

They got out of the Opera Populaire, this time, without paying any attention to some shadow hiding near the sculptures of the nine Greek Muses or beside Bacchus surrounded by his suite of satyrs and fauns. It was only when they were both installed in the carriage that suddenly, Christine gasped and remembered she had forgotten to look… She giggled nervously.

"I'm free," she said to Raoul, who had looked at her worryingly when he heard her giggle. "I got out… I escaped."

* * *

The first part of the supper had been rather silent. Christine and Raoul didn't mind. The singer didn't have much to say, anyway, and just needed to unwind. The vicomte, knowing how much she had been tested out emotionally, hoped that a meal would simply help her to recompose herself, at least a little bit.

But soon, as the supper was almost over, he remarked that, know that time was passing by, that she was looking often at the clock, stopping living in the present moment and realizing that every pleasure came to his end… she was afraid of going back there, back into that living nightmare.

To the eyes of the world, they were adults, now, though Christine seemed closer to the child than the woman. And often, Raoul felt himself that he was still quite boyish. Just that attempt to get a mustache. He had abandoned when the only thing he could pull out of it were a few miserable hairs popping out quite randomly and disgracefully around his mouth.

They were adults, now. And the world came in, with all its rules about how men had to behave with women, and how women would behave with men.

The wisest thing to do, according to Raoul's conscience, would be to invite Christine for the night. It was simply nonsense to bring her back to the Opera House, not after what she had experienced. How would she even find enough serenity to simply fall asleep?

Certainly, Mme Giry, even as conformist as she was, would understand such a measure, Raoul had no doubt of it. But still… he just couldn't invite Christine for the night, especially that there was no feminine presence at home, beside the servants, of course, but still, that wasn't enough. But thankfully, Philippe was away for the next six months and wouldn't start jumping to conclusions…

Oh well, down with the rules. Christine's safety was more important, and he even felt ridiculous now of worrying about them.

But asking Christine was something a lot more delicate.

"If you want…" Raoul burst out, before immediately regretting it, than taking a deep breath to continue, "You could come and stay at my place… just for the night."

Christine's eyes widened, while Raoul prayed Heaven more than he ever did in his entire life for the strength of not blushing. Immediately, before she could even answer, he replied, but in a way it could reflect his mind very well:

"You'll have a private room, and… and you can also stay tomorrow and… I know it's not really appropriate, and…"

_Gosh, I'm awkward. _

_Can I just knock my head on the wall in public? Please? _

But thankfully, Christine's laugh made itself heard gently. Never had it sounded more beautiful to Raoul.

"I admit I felt like asking you that… but I was kind of shy to ask." She admitted gently. "Don't worry for my reputation. I am just a singer, after all."

Christine didn't even mention that anyway, almost everyone, thanks to La Carlotta, thought she had spent the night of _Hannibal _sleeping with Raoul. No. She was somewhere else, so to say. And she didn't want to think of it. Not at all.

She knew, thanks to all the flowers and even sometimes notes she had received after her triumph in _Hannibal_, that she had quite a lot of admirers who were desperately trying to get to her. But providentially, Mme Giry played her adoptive mother role quite well, ready to stand in between Christine and the crowd and firmly announce that Mademoiselle Daaé wanted no visitors. The ballet mistress and the prima donna both knew a bit too well that some of those admirers had other than platonic admiration. After all, dancers and singers were popular mistresses among the elite. Christine, in her pure heart, only felt disgust imagining she could be the play toy of some rich man. Already, she could remember when Meg and she would run away from a bit-too-interested stagehand from time to time… Joseph Buquet was the worse. But for now, Christine, remembering the man's fate, though she hadn't seen his corpse, didn't want to think of it.

Tonight would be a sweet, peaceful night, where she could sleep without being tormented by some evil spirit.

"Well…" Raoul finally said, with a boyish and somehow devilish grin on his face, "If I do mess up your reputation… I'll be obliged to marry you."

"Vicomte!" Christine replied, falsely offended. "I didn't know you were so devious."

With the same smile, Raoul shrugged, than, unable to retain himself, he burst of laughter, quickly imitated by Christine, provoking a few glares from the people around them. One in particular, a fat little old lady who looked at them, particularly furious, stopped their laughter. But it also provoked that Raoul, making sign to Christine to observe him, quickly glanced at the lady who had now her back turned to them, and then, he blow up his cheeks and frown, making a very good imitation of her.

Retaining herself from laughing once again, and quite inappropriately, Christine quickly coughed, declaring:

"I'm done with my meal. And you?"

Raoul nodded, making sign to a waiter to bring the note, quickly paid, and Christine and he got out of the restaurant and got back in their carriage. It was only then that finally, they dared to roar with laughter.

Soon, as they calmed down at last, it was only then that Christine and Raoul remembered what had happened a few hours earlier… and interiorly, they smiled. Christine, because she had so easily broken off from the Phantom's fearsome memory and control. Raoul, because he had succeeded into distracting Christine from her waking nightmares, trapped in some eternal, moonless night.

When they arrived in front of Raoul's home, the vicomte, still lost in his thoughts, couldn't help gazing at the sky. This sky, ruled by night, was quite different of the one Christine was so afraid of. The summer season provided a horizon without any clouds, stars and full moon brighter than ever.

Raoul was no poet. He had this attraction towards fairy tales, and could still remember all the ones Gustave Daaé would tirelessly tell to Christine and him. Raoul was a wide-eyed idealist, for he was young, and still had no experience of the cruelties of the real world… It had been so little of while since he could be considered as a man, in his twenty, soon twenty-one years of life… But still, often, Raoul de Chagny still had trouble to walk pass the limit separating the teenager from the man.

In his soul, he was still closer to the teenager than the adult, and in consequence, he often had a lack of words to describe the world's beauty. He would simply gaze it slowly, sometimes awing in wonder… he had seen it, engraved in his memory for ever. It was enough. Words didn't seem powerful enough to share the beauty with other people.

Simply, he took Christine's head, gently, making her blush a bit, as they remembered how they would often do that, a long time ago.

"You see the moon and the stars? The night is never completely dark, you know. There's always hope, somewhere…"

Christine nodded. Her imagination, already more active than Raoul's, worked in her mind, as she compared the soft light of the moon to her father always looking upon her, who had brought Raoul back in her life, she was sure of that. And the stars… it was impossible to count them all… probably like all the good memories of the times where she was still with her father and Raoul.

Finally, Christine got out of her reverie, to follow Raoul into his home.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are candy for me: they keep me going! And by the way, if you have ideas, things you would like to see Raoul and Christine do, drop them in! Don't be shy! **

**Answers to reviews: **

**love rosie3: **Thanks! ;) And it's true that there is really a lack of R/C stories… It's one of the main reasons why I'm writing this! ;)

**fantasychica37: **Thanks! And FINALLY SOMEONE WHO SAYS THAT R/C, AND NOT E/C IS CANON! Yay!

**Kat: **Thank you! ;)


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